Found Beneath an Eternal Night
by anangelsangel
Summary: This is my take on Erik's life from the night beneath the moonless sky and on. THIS IS BASED UPON THE AUSTRALIAN PERFORMANCE OF LOVE NEVER DIES WRITTEN BY ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER. PERFORMED BY ANNA O'BYRNE AND BEN LEWIS. I OWN NOTHING! !
1. Found Beneath an Eternal Night

Months. It had been months since I heard the beautiful sound of the angelic of that voice, of her voice. It had been months since I had held her in my arms and felt the soft thrum of a pure heart. It had been months since that hideous creature of a man stole her away from me. I knew that that wasn't how it happened yet I couldn't help but whisper the idea repeatedly through my mind in an attempt to save the shattered pieces of my lost soul. I left her a candelabra every night in hope that she would return to me. The idea was hopeless. Why should she return to me? Why would she? I had written her a beautiful opera, but it was also an attempt to kidnap her and trap her away in my darkness. How could I do such a thing to her? I loved Chri-. It hurt to even think of her name. The moment I did I pictured holding her and caressing her soft porcelain neck with my lips. I pictured holding her and singing softly in her ear. But then the daydream changed its mood as she was quickly ripped from my grasp. And I would be angry for a few minutes and curse the name of evil Viscount who stole her. But then the angry flooded into sadness and the tears would stat once more. She wasn't ripped from my arms, she fled away by her own choice. Not that I made it easy for her. I never made it easy for her.

How could I torture her so deeply? I knew I was monster, but was I evil enough to cruelly tease her? Who was I to deny such a beautiful woman the world of light? She never deserved the world of darkness. She deserved a grand home with children and a rich husband. She need the best money could by not a monster to flee and hide from. The best I could do for her was to give her what she deserved. I couldn't force her to love me. How could she? How could anyone love such a hideous beast? And so I let her go. I let her go to live a life of safety and normality with a man that she loved and that loved her back. He would treat her right and protect her from the monsters of the world, monsters like me.

I spent every day and night since the performance of _Don Juan Triumphant _Sitting in the darkness of my prison below the Opera Populaire. I was drowning in the dark wilting in self-pity and loneliness. Some nights I believed I was dying from the aching of the vast whole in my empty chest. When I was a boy I had never known love. In fact I avoided human contact as much as possible. I grew up being laughed at and whipped by the scum of the human race. I didn't think people could possess any kind of wholesome emotion. That was until the night I was rescued from the sideshow my father had sold me to, by a kind and very young Miss Giry. But even then as I saw an example of kindness and love I never believed I could myself possess such a thing. I grew up below the opera house. I studied people and their habits. Yet I found the people of the opera house to be very dark. I wallowed in my hatred and stayed in the shadows, until one day. I heard the most exquisite voice I had ever heard. As I followed the sound I came to the opera's chapel. There was a small girl crying and singing a prayer to her father. This girl was new to the opera house. Her father had just died leaving her alone in the world.

It was that moment that I felt the first beat of my heart. I fell in love with her the moment her melody floated into my ears. I decided that I had to have her at all costs. I followed her around and gave her singing lessons. I hoped to hear the sweet intoxicating ring of her voice. She called me her angel of music. This small nickname gave me such hope. Hope that maybe I could leave the darkness once and for all. But one thing led to another and I wasn't able to. There was something that tied me to the darkness. I was a servant of the devil here. How could I ever be loved?

I sat on my bed my head held in my hands. My music box sat in my lap. I had hidden in the shadows as the policemen raided my lair. I was safe for now, safe and alone. I was alone now and would be for the rest of my life. The fire had left the Opera Populaire empty for months. There was no sign of Christine. The awful smell of smoke clouded the air and chased away her delightful smell of lilies. There was nothing but the skeleton of memories to keep her here with me. Daylight was quickly disappearing. The night was going to be black once again as the moon began its pattern of phases once more. It was to be a new moon tonight. The sky would fill with blackness as the last candle would blow out. The darkness which had once been my inspiration meant nothing to me now. Christine, whom meant everything to me, whom had been my inspiration for the past years, was gone. I was lost. I had music scattered everywhere. All of it unfinished. All of it disgusting. I had lost all of my talent. I left my mask on my piano weeks ago and locked myself away in my room. There was no need for a mask when there was no one to hide from your disgusting face.

The tears began to fall once more. Suddenly there was a noise from behind me I turned and a breeze swept through the room blowing out every candle. But even without the light I knew who it was. Even in complete darkness nothing could hide her away. I could tell it was Christine. The scent that radiated off of her skin would always be the same. The sweet hum of her heart would always sound the same, even when it quickened.

"Christine? Can it be? The one that leave me so serene, the one that ripped me apart and could be so mean? Oh, Christine. Why?" I expected her to run when she heard me. Why was she here anyway? The pain licked at the open wounds on my heart.

"Oh Erik. My love. The one I chose to leave. How could I ever deceive…" Love? Had she really said love? I turned to her and then realized that my mask wasn't on me. I hid ashamed that maybe she could still see it. I thought maybe if even a shed of light appeared and she saw she would cringe and run from me once more.

"Christine…" But instead she walked towards me. I could hear her steps. The sound they made took me off guard. They were strong steps even if they fumbled here and there. She wasn't timid or scared. She wasn't scared of me! As she reached my side I felt her hand as she placed it on my shoulder. I cringed away in shame of what I was and what I did to her. Why was she here? But my body couldn't deny her. No matter how loud my brain yelled, my heart overpowered it and I leaned into her touch. I loved her so much that my body physically hurt. She pulled me up off of the bed and into her arms. She held me so close that I could hear the singing in her veins. I felt as her left arm rose and her hand fell on my face. She held it there and caressed the scared tissue with such love that my eyes filled with tears. I felt the pull as our souls entwined into one.

"I love you Erik. You are so beautiful, so very beautiful, almost too beautiful." I felt the soft sweetness of her breath as her words whispered into my ear. But she was too close and her lips grazed my ear.

My passion and need for her overtook everything else. I couldn't resist the moan that left my lips. "My Christine." Suddenly her lips were on mine. They were fierce and hungry. There was so much need behind it. Suddenly it became clear. Christine came and found where I hid. She was declaring her love for me. She had kissed and touched this deformed face. Was this really what she wanted? I picked her up in my arms and laid her on the bed. The only fight she put up was every time my skin wasn't touching hers. She kept pulling me closer and begging for more.

She continued to sigh and moan my name through the night, even as she dreamed. But as I held her close to my chest and felt her heart thrumming beneath my fingers something was wrong. Even as her fingers entwined around mine and her body twisted around mine, even though it was my name she was whispering in her sleep, even though she lost her virginity in my bed, it was still Raoul's ring that rested on her left hand. He had one her and in the morning when my face was exposed to her once again she would hide in fear and shame at what she had done. It wouldn't matter what her heart would tell her, in the end her mind would win and she would run back to Raoul.

The decision was made. I couldn't feel the pain of her choosing Raoul over me once more. I would have to let this night be my final memory of the love of my life. This had to be the end and it was up to me to turn the page on this fantasy. I wiggled out of her grasp an untangled myself from her and got dressed. I gently kissed her forehead and slipped into the shadows.

She woke as the first rays of dawn illuminated her face. She looked around the room and I could see how puzzled she was. She must have wondered why she was there. And then slowly anger, disappointment, and finally denial flooded her face. She ran out of the room wrapped in nothing but a sheet. I crept towards the bed and left her a final rose. A rose to tell her I would always love her and I crept away to the home of the Girys.


	2. Choices to be Made

This Saturday morning was colder than usual. The Dawn was finally breaking. The streets of Paris were deserted. The human race was safely tucked into their beds recovering from their late night partying the night before. The harsh winter still stung my uncovered cheek even though it was halfway through spring now. I imagined the warmth of being in my bed. But I shook the thoughts away as I imagined the woman who had been tangled up in my sheets last night. Ah, Christine. The woman I had obsessively loved and adored for years, now running home crying home to her Viscount about how once again the monster kidnapped her. And this time he was less of a gentleman to her than he had ever been to any woman. I shuddered. What if she hadn't enjoyed herself as much as I thought she did. What if I did force myself upon her. I shivered and it wasn't because of the crisp morning air.

My steps grew quicker as I rounded another block, another block closer to the rescue of Madame Giry. What would I say to her when I appeared on her steps. I was in danger? Well I most likely was. The moment Raoul heard what I did to the delicate and pure Christine, he would stop at nothing to mount my head over his fireplace. How could I have done such an awful thing to her? Oh my Christine. How could I have left her? I should have stayed and owned up to my actions? I was the God Damn Phantom of the Opera! I was damned by the devil himself, at least I was pretty sure of it! When had I ever been one to run from my problems! I faced them head on with my trusty Punjab at my side. I quickly turned back in the direction of the Opera Populaire. I could still see the tops of its gargoyles from where I stood.

But I quickly turned back around. Her eyes. I couldn't be able to face those magnificent endless brown eyes. She would turn from me. She would only find me ugly and hideous. She would finally see nothing but the beast within me. She would shun and hate me like she never had before. I couldn't face her. I couldn't do that… for either of us. But I knew to the deepest pit of my soul that I loved her. I loved Christine with every fiber of my body! I needed her by my side to survive. But I no longer deserved such a pleasure. I was pitiful scum of the earth, forced to live below the Earth's crest. I was made to fry in the fiery pits of Hell! It was the least I deserved after touching and polluting the soft smooth porcelain flesh of Christine Daae. A pureness such as Miss Daae was rare in this world. She was meant to be locked in a glass display case. She never should have been touched or played with, like any other priceless doll. She was made only to be looked at. An object made to fill your heart with such joy that made your soul rise to the Heavens. And she could do all that with just a single glance at her. She was untainted beauty. She was everything good that God could create wrapped into one being. She was too good for me. I didn't deserve her.

I turned and walked back toward the Giry household. I reached the tiny house after about a half hour. Their house was small and stuck between two other buildings that toward of it. Their house was old and falling apart. Some of the shutters hung sideways from their screws. I walked slowly up the steps. This was it. One single knock and I would separate myself for my Christine forever. I slowly raised my hand and let my knuckles rap against the rough wood of the door. My movements followed by in slow motion. The sound sounded as hollow as I felt. I stood there and listened for what felt like hours to the clatter of the tenants inside. The moment the door cracked open my stomach jumped into my throat. I guess part of me had been begging for the absence of Madame Giry. I didn't want to imagine a single day without my Christine, especially after what had happened last night. I could still taste the sweet nectar of her lips on mine.

Madame Giry's head popped out through the crack, inches from mine. "What do you want Erik? What happened? You were to stay hidden in the catacombs!" I looked up from my feet and found her eyes.

"Something's happened. I need to leave now." She hurriedly threw the door open and shooed me inside. But she didn't close the door until she looked out into the streets to make sure no one had been watching. She led me into her small parlor. The furniture selection was pitiful. It was clear that with the Opera Populaire they the Girys had little to nothing. I sat down on a small fragile looking armchair.

"What has happened, Erik?!" I shook my head unable to answer. How could I tell her that I had taken advantage of Christine's vulnerable state?

"I cannot tell you. If I was able to you know I would tell you. I need to leave. I cannot stay in the shadows. I cannot be this close to Christine any longer! My soul is broken and my heart is shattered. The mere memory of how her presence once graced that stage sends the shards of my heart to pierce my body and tear my inside and out. I am dying here in Paris. I need to leave." She nodded her head. Her brows creased in concentration as she looked through the map in her head. She stood up and began to walk away. I stared at my feet once more trying to force my tears back into my head.

"Well are you coming." I looked up to see Madame Giry's intense eyes glaring down at me. I stood and followed her down a dimly lighted hallway. She opened the last door to the left and pulled me inside. There was a large desk in the center of the room. The desk was crowded with paperwork and there were sets of ballet shoes hung along the walls. It was then that I noticed how much Madame Giry had aged within a few months. Her black hair was filled with various grays. Her skin had wrinkled and there were black bags below her troubled eyes. I walked towards the desk and picked up a stack of paperwork.

"What is all of this Madame?" She put her shaking hand to her hair to pull back a stray hair that had fell loose from her long tight black braid.

"Well you see my past place of employment was burnt down. That would be the mortgage for my home. The paperwork for the past rehearsals I am being denied payment for. And those are all of the contracts for my dancers that are currently unemployed. I have no idea how I am going to survive this Erik!"

"Well it was a terrible mistake." I couldn't apologize for what had happened because I wasn't sorry for what I had done. Bringing down the chandelier had given me a few last moments with my darling Chri-. No I was going to stop thinking about her. I would not even say her name from now on.

"Coney Island." Madame Giry's voice crashed through my thoughts ripping me back into the darkness of reality.

"Pardon me, Madame, what was that you said?"

"Coney Island. Coney Island is opening soon. It is a land of freak shows and circuses. It's been in all of the papers." I cringed at the thought of being stuck in another freak show. My past experiences did not involve cotton candy and elephants. My past was filled with laughter, whips, and cruel judgmental stares. "It's not like that horrid place Erik. This show is in America, a place where they take pride in their freaks."

"I'm not so sure about this Madame Giry."

"Well if you must leave so quickly for a thing you refuse to tell me about, you have no choice. We will leave for America today." Just then little Meg Giry came running into the office.

"Mother!" She froze when she saw me. In the past the idea of me had flooded this young girl's brain. I was the reason she refused to enter a dark room and forced her to run past the dark corners of the opera house. But I had only been an idea to her until she found my mask in the Opera Populaire's catacombs. "Oh my God! Mother!" Madame Giry went to her daughter to reassure her of me.

"Oh my little Meg, he is alright." I walked toward her slowly and thrust my hand out towards her.

"Miss Giry, It is a pleasure to meet you."

"You monster! You were the one to repeatedly kidnap Christine! You were the ghost that continually haunted her and hid in her shadow. What is he doing here Mother?" The sound of Christine's name was like a slap to the face. But I was also taken aback by her words. So much hatred and she hadn't even seen my hideous face.

"Meg Giry, calm yourself. He is an old friend of mine."

"An old friend?!"

"Yes Meg!"

"I loved Christine!" I crumbled to the floor. The sobs finally escaped into the palms of my hands. Suddenly there was a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked up into the eyes of Meg. She had fallen to her knees in front of me and put her hand gently on my shoulder. She was attempting to comfort the beast she had cursed moments before. Why? Who was this woman to try and help me to feel better? She should be with Christine now. She should be crouched on the flooring with the sobbing Christine. Meg should have been comforting Christine by cursing my name for causing Christine such pain and harming her so much. Madame Giry's voice discomfort of seeing her daughter with the opera's beast filled the silence. Her voice quickly followed.

"Meg go and pack your things, we are leaving today to go to America."


	3. A time for Wallowing

Madame Giry spent the morning on the phone planning out the trip. She called hotels and docks. She counted her savings and let out her sighs of stress. Meg and I sat on the floor and packed their things into boxes. I could feel her eyes as they followed my every movement. This woman continued to stare at me but it wasn't the usual stares I was used to. They were stares of curiosity and admiration and maybe even adoration. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I looked up at her.

"Yes." Her cheeks turned red and she looked down at the box she was filling. We were currently sitting on the floor of her room. It was small and quaint. It was decorated with photos of her and her fellow ballerinas. She had shoe boxes that lined the walls. All of which were filled with ballet shoes. Her bedposts seemed to be the home of a few practice tutus. There was one window and it didn't let in enough light for this pretty young girl.

"I'm sorry, Erik. It's just- well, I've only ever heard of you in stories. And well you are just so real. You are so much more handsome than the stories portrayed though." She scooted a little closer to me. She lifted her hand towards my mask and I got up and turned away. What was she doing? Did she forget the part of the stories about what a monster I was? "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little curious."

I turned around to face her. "It's alright." Her mirror was right above her head. I couldn't stop myself from seeing the reflection that looked back at me. What a hideous monster! But then something else caught my eye. In one side of the mirror Meg had shoved multiple pictures of her and Christine into the mirror's frame. I couldn't stop myself as I walked forward towards the pictures. My fingers gingerly touched the photos. On her dressing table sat the newspaper article from Christine's first performance. She was so beautiful that it caused me physical pain. Every fiber of my body yearned to hold her. My brain screamed at me to run back to her and pull her into my arms and never let her ago again. I needed her! The tears began to fall once more.

"Erik?" Meg's little voice echoed through my thoughts. I brushed my tears away and turned back to where she sat on the ground. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Meg. I am fine."

"What happened between you two Erik?"

"Nothing." I turned and pulled the pictures from the mirror. I threw them down into a box and stormed out of the room. I ran down the stair and walked out of the backdoor that led to the back alley behind their house. My breathing was heavy and laced with sobs. I fell on the door's stairs. "Oh Christine!" It felt wrong to wallow in my own self-pity, but I couldn't handle the pain that I was drowning in. Raoul, that disgusting scum of a man. He didn't deserve her. But he was the only man that could give her a good portion of what she deserved.

"Erik?" Meg's small voice came from behind me.

"What Meg?"

"Just know that I'm here if you want to talk." I heard her turn and go, the door creaking as it closed behind her. I got up from my spot and walked back inside. I wasn't ready to face Meg yet so I wandered through their house. I found myself in a room next to Madame Giry's office. It was empty except for and an old wood piano. The wood was rotten but I sat down and diddled around the ivories playing in all of the piano's untuned glory. The sun's dim rays passed through the room's single window. It fell along the piano without touching me. I would always be trapped in the world's darkness, hidden away in a world of shadows, unnoticed and unloved for all of eternity.

"I see you found my grandfather's old piano."

"Oh yes." I looked up at Madame Giry. I was a little ashamed of being caught exploring a woman's home.

"Well the plans are all set. We have and hour until the boat to America leaves. The trip will last about three weeks. I have a meeting with a ballet company the week after our estimated arrival date. There I hope to get a job Meg and myself a job. In America we will be staying in a tiny isolated hotel. The hotel I found has a basement to it that I hope will be to your liking." Of course Madame Giry would expect me to stay below ground. She would want me out of her way and lock me away once more as if I was a problem that needed to be handled. I knew that I was being over-dramatic, but I couldn't stop my personally pity parade.

"Thank you Madame."  
"Of course. Is there anything you want to take with us?" I shook my head.

"There is nothing here that would be worth the memories."

"I understand. Come Erik and help me pack the boxes into our wagon. It is hidden in the darkness of the back alley." I followed her into the hallway where the towers of boxes hid Meg's small figure. Madame Giry picked up a small suitcase and walked out the back door. I picked up one of the heavier boxes and began to follow her. Meg suddenly appeared at my side holding a small hat box.

"This is going to be so much fun! I have never been to America before. What a change of scenery, the wings of the Opera Populaire to the fresh parks of America!" I sighed and kept walking. I did not have the patience to deal with her. She was always too perky and it tended to nauseate me. But I could sense something much darker. Below her pink fluffy exterior was a richer crimson velvet. I could see the way her face faltered when she was sometimes with Christine. I could see her slip away into the dark side of her mind. I guess in a way Meg was a lot like me. The only difference was that where I embraced the darkness, she pushed it away with thought of rainbows and butterflies.

Meg seemed to understand that I was feeling uncomfortable because she quickly stopped talking. Madame Giry had found a spot in the carriage after the single suitcase she carried had found a place to rest for the journey to the docks. Meg followed after her mother, leaving me to carry the last ten heavy boxes and suitcases and various hat boxes. They were not the women I had remembered from months ago. Something in Madame Giry turned cold, colder than any ballet instructor. Meg's dark side was growing too strong for the rainbows. I could see as her eyes grew distant. The iris's switched from sky blue to a dark navy. She fingers would clench until the knuckles turned white. Then suddenly her eyes would readjust, her hands unclench, and her lips would form a smile. After the carriage was packed I climbed inside the carriage and it began to role forward attempting to locate its destination.

The trip was silent except for the deep breaths of Madame Giry and the shallow ones of her daughter. Meg was thrilled at the idea of her new adventure, while Madame Giry was stressed over the thoughts of the future. I could hear the bustle in the streets as everyone prepared for the wedding that was about to happen in a few more hours. The stabbing in my chest never lightened its sting. I couldn't bear to think of my Christine in the arms of another man, especially Raoul. Tonight my Christine was to seal her marriage with her husband Raoul. Had she told him yet? If not, what would he say when he realizes his wife was no longer a maid? What would I do to him when he found out? I could feel my hands grip the carriage's seat and strangle it with my fingertips. The very idea of his hands on her body sent adrenaline through my body. I was shaking in anger. I felt the need to jump out of the carriage, run to Raoul and Christine. I wanted to kill that man for letting the idea of Christine's body pass through his horrid mind. I wanted to pick her up and drag her out the door and to America with me. I wanted to feel his last breath as it pushed its way out of his larynx. I wanted to feel his fresh warm blood on my hands. I wanted to kill that man more than anything else in the world. But Christine hated me enough already. She had to. Besides I couldn't take away Christine's perfect future life.

The carriage suddenly stopped. The dock was located in town yet it was completely deserted. Madame Giry knew as well as I did where everyone was. She had timed the trip perfectly so that everyone would be attempting to witness the grand joining of Viscount Raoul De Chagny and Mademoiselle Christine Daae. There would not be a single witness to our departure. I slipped through the shadows and onto the boat as a shady looking sailor helped carry the Girys' things onto the boat. He did not even try to hide as his eyes wandered all over Meg's body. What a sick piece of scum. We finally boarded the boat and started our journey to the new world as twilight settled over the city of Paris, France.


	4. The Harsh Realities of Sea Travel

A set of eyes followed my every move. They usually belonged to little clueless Meg Giry. What was this girl not understanding? And why wasn't she running from this beast? Every move I made she studied intensely. I was beginning to understand the shyness of a fish in bowl. I wasn't this woman's pet. She was so aggravating. I had just lost the love of my life, once again and this time it was by my own stupidity.

She made it perfectly clear who she chose. In fact she laid it down on my mattress. I couldn't get the image of her flawlessness out of my mind. Every plane of skin was untouched and a pure creamy white. She was completely intoxicating and addicting. I needed this woman for my survival and yet I let her go for her own survival. A lapse in judgment was all it had been. She could never truly love me. No one ever could. My own mother had made that perfectly clear when she gave me my first mask to hide away her mistake of giving me life.

I was nothing but a monster. I destroyed everything I ever touched. Christine was no longer a maid. She could no longer be pure and wholesome. I had held her virtue in my hand for a night and stole it away within moments of her offering it to me. It was a precious gift that she chose to give to me, of all people, a gift I had used and taken for granted. I had never deserved her, never deserved her offering. I never should have accepted, such a thing was far too precious to be crushed in my hands.

Being trapped on a boat was doing nothing for my nerves. The trip was going to be three weeks. Three weeks of suffocating in the lack of oxygen the Girys gave me. Somehow they thought it proper to never let me stand out of arm's reach of one of them. They were truly nauseating people but I had no choice. They were the only people who would take me in.

But even so I could no longer take Madame Giry's breathing down my neck demanding I write Meg songs and teach her to sing as Christine could. Two things I found impossible to do. I had no inspiration to write, my muse was miles from me and Meg's voice was too harsh to carry a melody worthy of being considered in even the same category as Christine. Ah, Christine, yet another trouble I found on board. It was utterly impossible to think of her.

Every moment of silence I would hear her voice singing to me, or whispering to me, moaning and sighing my name, calling out to me in the darkness, begging me to take her as she gave into her desires. And then in a moment of weakness I would allow my eyes to close for only a second. But every time I let my lids flutter over my eyes I could see her flawless porcelain body and her luscious red lips that were surrounded by the rest of her perfect face. I would crave the feeling of her soft throat and the sweetness of her skin. I would yearn to touch the tenderness of her lips and hold her against me, just one more time. And then the aching of my empty chest cavity would suffocate me. But somehow the humor of pitiful life saved me from death, unfortunately.

What I would give to have her with me just one more time. But it wouldn't happen, couldn't happen, and because of this I would rather have died than suffer the pain another second. But I tried to push away my thought of Christine and my mental list of suicide attempts. One day I would rise above this. I would make something of myself, which could lead to two futures. The first future involved me overcoming and forgetting my love for Christine Daae. The second and more attractive future involved Christine coming back to me. Of course this future was more of an unrealistic fantasy.

My life was empty without her. My days and nights began to blur together on the ship. I tried to lock myself in with my piano. I attempted to force the writing out of me. But how can you force something out of an empty shell of its former glory. I was nothing without her. The music still flowed within me, I could feel it. But without Christine, somehow I was no longer able to reach it. And honestly I didn't have the motivation to even try. I needed her more than oxygen. I would gladly give it up for her. I would use my last breath to whisper my love for her as long as she would be mine. I would die in her arms as long as she would hold me for the last few moments of my life. Even if my last moments on this earth were a lie, I would convince myself of the façade.

At the end of the day I would be where I had been at the beginning of the day. The sheet music would be filled with drawings of Christine instead of music. I would crumble into a ball as I realized the impossibility of recreating her beauty. I couldn't eat or sleep. I couldn't walk or talk. I could do nothing but stare out the porthole at the horizon and imagine her crying on the dock from my departure.

"I'll come back for you, Christine. You will always be mine. That my dear, is a promise. I love you." I would whisper to her. But then the fantasy would end with Raoul pulling her home from the dock.

The nights stole in pacing the floors. Silence surrounded me and engulfed me. I had never heard such silence, such emptiness, such loneliness. I couldn't bare it, and yet I couldn't stop it either. I needed her, her voice. It was the only thing powerful enough to pull my head above the surface of life. It was the only thing to save me from drowning in my own pit of despair. Without her though there was no point to anything because without her I had no reason to live, everything lost meaning.

I was found three weeks later lying in the corner on the floor. Madame Giry's piano was smashed against a wall and sheet music vandalized with Christine's face covered the floor. I was shaking back and forth with Punjab in my hands contemplating suicide. A few sailors dragged me out and threw me onto the shores of America.


	5. Mr Gulley's Freakshow

"For God's sake Erik you are grown man. She doesn't love you. She left you to die and ran off with her true love. You must save yourself from your own pit of sorrows." Madame Giry stood over me cursing at me again and again. Time had not been kind to her and she was obviously weathering away with age. Meg stood behind her refusing to look upon my pathetic form on the ground. I rose from the ground and towered over Madame Giry.

"Damn you, you ignorant child. You know nothing of this world. Keep your opinions to yourself I have no need for your greed or your judgmental gaze." She stumbled back and I turned from her. I walked up to the waiting carriage attempting to control my rage. I left all of their bags for them to handle.

"I'm sorry about my mother, Erik." I turned around to face Meg. Her childlike eyes were full of embarrassment. Poor girl knew nothing of the world's cruelties.

"I am very much familiar with her rash behavior and harsh words. I do not need your apologizes Miss Giry."

"You can call me Meg."

"Thank you, but that would entail us being friends and I am perfectly fine with where we stand now." I turned and stepped into the carriage leaving a dejected looking Meg to run back to her mother's side. What a silly child.

The trip to the side show was bumpy and silent. Meg was drowning in her embarrassment and Madame Giry was engulfed in her anger towards me. I didn't mind the silence until my brain started to drift away back to Paris. Ah, Paris, the city of love, oh how you deceived me. Perhaps the land of new beginnings would be a nice change. Christine's voice floated through my head setting my teeth on edge and lifting the hair on the back of my neck on end. It was almost as if she were there singing to me in my left ear. I turned and saw nothing but an empty seat. I slipped closer into that seat and leaned my head to rest against the window. I let the cold glass kiss my skin and tried to get some rest.

Soon I was reliving every terrible moment of the past couple of years. The moment Raoul saw Christine sing, the night they confessed their love for one another, the night Christine chose him over me, the night I left her, and every lonely second of my life that followed it. Yes, I had a terrible childhood, one that most wouldn't even dream of. But losing the love of my life trumped it all together. But this time I didn't lose her. I left her. I did. It was my fault. It was always my fault! I woke with a sudden jerk. My head fell back and hit the window hard. Madame Giry and Meg both looked at me. Madame Giry's mouth pulled into a smirk.

The carriage gave a sudden jerk and Madame Giry jerked forward, nearly falling out of her seat. Served the old bat right.

"The old Gulley Freakshow huh? Well here you are." I opened the door and jumped out of the carriage before Madame Giry could give me another dirty glare. I looked out at what stood before me. A large wrought iron gate stood before a vast field with large tents spread out over the land. Very people crowded the grounds and most of them were dressed in colorful costumes, performers. The lack of grass displayed that the sideshow had once been the prime of its day. But it was now severely deserted. The lack of income was apparent in the multitude of repairs needed. This place had so much character.

"You just gonna stand there and stare? Typical American." I turned to see a tiny woman behind me. When she saw me she jumped and her posture changed from hostile to understanding. "Oh."

"French, actually. And I was taken by the beauty of the place. I meant no offense." She continued to stare at the mask that hid the right side of my face. "And you are?"

"Miss Fleck, aerolistic extraordinaire." She thrust her hand out at me offering it to me. I couldn't help but stare down at it. No one had ever offered their hand to me, ever. She pulled it back quickly noticing my hesitation. "And you are?" Again I was lost. Who was I? The Phantom of the Opera? The Opera Ghost? The Apparition of the Opera Populaire?

"Erik." She looked at me with a questioning expression. I angled my head so my mask was no longer visible.

"It's okay, Erik. You'll come to see we are a very accepting group of freaks here."

"No, Meg, stay here and watch the luggage. There is no use for you here, yet." Madame Giry got out of the carriage and stood behind me looking down at Fleck. "I see you've made…friends." She made to put every ounce of disgust into the word friends. I ignored her tone and turned to her.

"Indeed I have. Madame Giry if you be so kind, this is Miss Fleck."

"Miss? Hardly." Fleck gave her an angry look but ignored her cruel words.

"Come Erik we must go find Mr. Gulley." I followed Madame Giry as she pushed her way through the gate and marched up to the main tent. She pushed her way through the people preparing for the day's performance and marched into the office of Mr. Gulley without so much as a knock. The old man set his phone down and looked up at Madame Giry over his wire framed glasses.

"You must be Madame Giry. Have a seat. And I see you brought a friend. A freak no doubt." He pointed to my mask and then to the two chairs in front of his crowded desk. He was a chubby man in a light blue plaid jacket. She looked at me with a sneer and then smiled back at Mr. Gulley.

"Yes. Now I understand you have a job opening for a worker."

"Now Listen here Miss-"

"I expect you call me Madame Giry and nothing less." Her sweetness disintegrated and she was all business.

"Well Miss Madame Giry, like I said on the phone I need quality workers that can fix up this old mess here. I ain't gonna pay much and I sure as hell ain't gonna take in some freak like your friend here." I felt my hands ball in to fists and I looked straight at Mr. Gulley.

"Now you listen here Sir-" I could feel the anger fill my body and cling to each word as they left my mouth.

"He'll be fine. I'll watch him myself. We don't need much money. It's just me and my daughter."

"A daughter you say? Well I might have some use for her. An assistant perhaps." Oh I knew exactly what she would be assisting.

"Erik go and have a look around while I talk to Mr. Gulley here."

"Nothing would make me happier." I rose from my chair and left the office. The smell of sweat and moldy food was beginning to make me nauseous. I walked out of the tent and the fresh smell of salt water caught my attention. I walked out back out towards the gates of the sideshow and followed a small path overgrown with weeds. After a while my shoes hit sand and moments later old wood. The path had brought me to a small dock. It was a nice secluded place but the wood was so old it appeared the dock could go at any minute.

"It is nice out here Erik. The sea calm. The sea is gray. It washes everything away." I turned around to face Meg.

"Are you alright Miss Giry." She shook her thoughts away.

"What? Oh, yes. I'm fine Erik." There was something disturbing about the way she got lost in her mind like that. I turned to walk back up to the sideshow.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Miss Giry."

"Why Christine?" The sound of hearing her pain never seized to leave an aching in my heart.

"What?"

"Why did you choose to love her? What is so special about little Miss Christine Daae?"

"Everything, Meg. Everything." I turned and walked back up the path leaving Meg to stare out over the water.


	6. Need for Closure

Working at the sideshow was not what I thought it would be like. I sat around mostly. I had fixed all of the tents after the first few days. I fixed everything that got broken but that didn't happen often, for it is hard to break something when there is no one there to break it. The show was suffering badly. Because of Coney Island's location, it was a hot spot for many amusement parks and resorts. So there was a lot of competition, leaving Mr. Gulley's Freak show to suffer a most terrible of deaths, loneliness. Something I was quite familiar with.

My days were often spent sitting on the restored dock daydreaming of a life holding my Christine. A little ways down the beach we would chase our child around and build sand castles. She would lay in the sun and read brilliant novels while I stared over at her, my mind over flowing with music she inspired. Then as the sunset she would crawl into my arms and find comfort there. And it would be perfect. Every day of our lives would be pure bliss. But then the sound of Mr. Gulley's voice screaming my name would pull me out of my day dream and I would have to race back to join the rest of humanity.

My nights were spent locked away in a hotel room supplied and locked by Madame Giry. Inside the room was a single window, cot, and piano. She was clearly forcing me to write music, but it was an impossibility. I couldn't write without my muse. My bed always went unused. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing Christine's face. I was afraid to see what would happen if I dreamed. I was a pathetic mess of a man, nothing more than an old corpse, for I had lived once, a long time ago. For a short time I had lived. And for a short time I had felt joy and love. And now I was dead, left with nothing but a fear of remembering the past.

But even being awake through the night, the hours were filled with Christine's presence. The silence was filled with her voice and laughter. Her singing tickled my ears. From time to time I would see her pass by the corner of my eye. But she would always be out of reach and disappear as quickly as she came. I guess she was becoming the Phantom of My Pathetic Life. I was haunted by her every second of every day.

I tried to find comfort in the sideshows noises and smells but somehow everything seemed to remind me of _her._ She was everywhere. But again she was nowhere. I couldn't live like this anymore. So I thought up a plan and escaped.

In the dead of night I slipped out of my window and climbed onto a ship destined to travel to France. The ship was carrying very precious cargo for some rich nobleman. Therefore the trip only lasted two weeks. I guess money could do almost anything. It got Raoul Christine. I shook the thought away. Of course that wasn't the reason they were together, I was. I slipped through the shadows and was able to go unnoticed during the trip.

The ship finally boarded in Le Havre. I got off the ship before I was noticed and slipped into a dark alleyway. I found an old abandoned building that I took refuge in until night finally came. Unlike America, I was still a monster in here. A monster with a record and an apparent death wish. Why had I been so stupid to come here? Nothing was going to change anything. But desire got ahold of me so when the streets emptied and darkness took over I slipped out of the building and onto the roads. I found a horse easily and stole it out an innocent man's barn. I rode the many miles to Paris and stopped at the opera house.

It had been my home for so many years and I had repaid it by burning it to the ground. The construction had already begun. The workers inside were very loud and drunk. It was easy to slip past them. I could not resist the chuckle that left my lips as I passed them.

"Idiots." I quickly reached Christine's old dressing room. It had already been returned to its former glory but I was sure the morons hadn't changed my rigging in the mirror. They probably didn't even realize its existence. I pushed the glass aside and slipped into the tunnels that led to my prison. I could still smell Christine in the tunnel; she must have been there recently. Or my senses were playing tricks on me once again. I followed the path down and came to the lake. My boat was gone so I waded through the knee high water. The water was warm and murky. Its familiarity calmed me to my core.

After a few moments I finally reached the shore of my small cavern. I walked over to my grand organ and brushed my fingers over its ivories. I walked around the corner to my old room. I almost fainted from the sight I saw. Christine was just as I had left her, curled up sleeping in my bed. She twisted and turned from the nightmare she was having. I walked towards her wanting to wake and comfort her troubles away. Was this fate smiling upon me? Was it really this simple? Could I wake her as if nothing had happened? Was I getting a second chance to be with my love? Did I deserve the chance? I was the one who had left her before. Could I even dare ask her for a second chance? What would she say? She was lying in my bed currently, not Raoul's that had to be a good sign. I took a few more steps towards her. And then light flashed across my face. I looked down at her hand to see that it had been the large diamond on her left ring finger. Of course because of my rashness she had gone through with her marriage. Maybe this was her moment of closure. She was filing us away in her mind. Turning this page in her life. We were no more to her. It was over and I was the moron who had come back to her after he left her to wake alone in his bed. What kind of man was I? I was a pathetic coward. I did not deserve her like Raoul did. He was an honorable man. He raced all the way down to my dungeon to face the beast and save his Christine. His Christine, that's who she was now.

"Erik." My mumbled name fell from her lips and I slipped into the shadow. She quickly jolted up right and sat there staring in my direction. Could she see me? Her body heaved forward slightly. She grabbed her mouth and ran out of the room towards the water. Her body heaved forward again and she threw up into the water. She sat up and wiped her mouth. She looked down at the water in shock. I could see the tears form in her eyes from where I sat. Then her expression turned to thoughtful and then to shock. I could see her mentally calculating something. Suddenly her eyes widened, she looked down and wrapped her hands around stomach. From my years of observing the human race and learning from the drama that happened backstage of the opera house I learned there was only one reason a woman looked that shocked after she threw up. There was only one reason a woman held her stomach like that. My pure Christine Daae was pregnant.


	7. The Mind of a Genius

**So I finally found that it Vicomte is that of a French nobleman and I feel completely stupid for using Viscount. Sorry. Well here's the new chapter. I'm sorry I haven't been writing. Sometimes I am busy and sometimes I lack inspiration and the days I lack inspiration there isn't use writing. It usually turns out to be short and all over the place. All right well here it is. Enjoy. Read & Review.**

Pregnant! I couldn't bear the thought of that Vicomte touching my sweet Christine. The very idea of his needy hands on her body froze me to my core. I wanted to skin that horrid man alive. And yet I could not. That horrid man was now my sweet Christine's husband. And the reason for that was me. If I hadn't ran away from her. If I hadn't left her in the morning, she would finally have been mine. But then she wouldn't be able to bless the world with a child of her own. I could never help her to produce an heir. Why would I even try? The poor child would be cursed to live in the shadows and hide his atrocious face. How would I ever damn a child to the same fate as my own?

I was a beast either way. I left the woman I loved. I hated the man she married. I hated myself. I hated the imaginary life I wanted to have with her. I hated everything. That was what I was though. I was a man of hate of loathing. I lived in the shadows and killed in the night. I was the monster that lurked in the darkness of night and the beast who haunted your nightmares. I was the creature that made you look behind you with every step you took. I was the living representation of horror. What did I ever have to offer her? I had to push away my hate and think of the life she could now have. The life I never could have given her.

She would be a mother. She would be a Vicomtesse. She would have a grand home. She would be happy. She would have a loving husband. But most of all she could walk down the streets of town holding his hand and not have to worry about others' reactions. She herself would not have to fear the beast beside her. She would not have to worry about his temper. She would no longer have to fear his random killing sprees. She would never have to hide from his genius evil plots. She would not have to be with me. Once again the sadness shook me.

What did I have now? I had an empty chest. I could no longer hear the soft patter of my heart. For it was miles away back in Paris. I sat there swaying with the boat as it made its way back to America. I had an okay job. I had a place to sleep. My temper was starting to sizzle away. But I was lost. I didn't know who I was anymore. I found that in Paris I had based my life around my obsession for Christine. Since the day I met her all I wanted to was please her. She had become my life. And now? Well now without her I was literally an empty shell of myself. Suddenly I looked down to see my hands once again quickly at work upon the grand piano in the ship's empty ball room. It had been days since I had played like this. I was afraid to lift my hands to write down the music. I feared that once they left the piano, that they would seize their music once more.

Slowly the music in my head faded away and I sat once again lost. I had no purpose anymore. I couldn't love once more. For you see it is physically impossible to love if you have no heart. How are you to give your heart away if it is far away with a woman in a different country? Perhaps I could send her a letter asking for its return. I laughed my ludicrous thoughts away. Maybe I was beginning to lose my mind. But I suppose you cannot truly lose something you never had. I believe my mind was stolen at the same moment she stole my breath, and heart. How could I live another day without her?

But I had to find away. I had something going for me in America. Perhaps it was not anything close to the Vicomte's success in Paris but perhaps it would be enough for my Christine. What was I saying she had a child and a family now? I was nothing but a distant thought now. I meant nothing to her. I was nothing but a mistake. She had had cold feet, that was all. It could not have been anything else. Because who in their right mind would ever pick a monster over French nobility? But somehow, no matter how many times I tried to push it away, there was a little glimmer of hope in my stomach. It was small but quite mighty.

Why would she have been in my bed? It was only a few months after her big day. She should have been home wrapped in the arms of her husband. She should have been relishing in his fine beauty and wrapped in his love picturing the rest of their lives together. And yet she wasn't. She had come back to my old home. But why? There was nothing there for her now. Had she been searching for me? Should I have gone back to her? Should I have pulled her into my arms? I should have kissed her and let her fall into my arms. I should have held her and taken her back with me. I should have stolen her back from the Vicomte. She was mine. She had let me be the first to touch the soft granite of the hip bone. She had let me be the first the taste the sweetness of her tongue. She had let me be the first to let me fingertips fall up and down her spine. She had let me be the first man to ever touch her like that. And I believe I had been the first name to fall from her lips in a soft moan.

For it had been me. I was the first man that she had held in such a way. I was the first man that she had loved in such a way. And if it was up to me, I would be the last as well. The plan was set. I was going to make something of myself. I was going to bring my fantasies to reality. She would be mine and it would be her choice. I was going be on the top of the world and she was going to be my queen.

I spent the rest of the trip locked in my room. I did not eat and I did not drink. I never closed my eyes to sleep. I sat hunched over my desk drawing out the blue prints to my next big plot. Christine Daae would come to me in America and she would be mine.


	8. Set into Motion

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! Did you think I would not notice? Did you think Mr. Gulley wouldn't notice?" Madame Giry was against the gates of Mr. Gulley's Freakshow. "You have been gone for over a month and a half. I swear if you went back to Paris to-" I glared back at the old woman challenging her.

"What? What would you possibly do? What could you do? You are no longer the woman you once were Giry. You do not have power over me. You do not own me. I may come and go as I please. And my affairs in Paris are none of your concern. I pushed past Madame Giry and walked toward the main tent. The employees I walked past stared at me in shock. They probably assumed I had run away. Or it was the shock that I had returned. Mr. Gulley was a fat old man with quite the temper. He had no respect for anyone at the freakshow and had been no doubt tossing around threats about me. I marched into his office without so much as a knock.

My lack of manners almost surprised me, but I had a plan and I was not going to waste my time trying to be polite. "Well it is about time you returned! Do you have any idea how-"

"I am not here to listen to your threats. I do not care for much of what you have to say at all for that matter. I have a deal I would like to discuss with you. A business negotiation, if you will." The round man shut his mouth and leaned back. The side show was going nowhere and he knew that. The place was falling apart and bringing in no income. He was going out of business soon and I knew that. He didn't know that I knew.

His eyes squinted as he got business like. His voice dropped a few octaves and his shoulders moved back. "I'm listening."

"You and I both know that this show is going to be a vacant lot in a few days. You have no income and no way to pay the bank. You do not even care for the show or its performers. This is nothing but a waste of your time. You know it and I know it. And so I would like to offer you a price and buy it from you." I could see the man's dark thoughts slip into his mind. He clearly believed he could out smart me. He was planning to get as much money out of me as possible.

"Oh but you are so wrong. I love this place. It is my pride and joy, my heart and soul. I started this place with my best friend and it has become my baby." I scoffed at his words.

"Yes and now it is a constant reminder of how your wife ran off with that best friend and has had his baby. You do not want this place. You are only stuck with it. Please allow me to take it off your hands." He glared back at me his demeanor changed back to its aggressive nature.

"Very well I suppose you are correct. Alright then. How does fifty sound?"

"Only fifty dollars?" He chuckled in response to me."

"But of course not, you idiotic freak! I want Fifty thousand American dollars."

"Me idiotic? You are the man trying to sell a run-down show for fifty thousand dollars!"

"Well I would give it to you for free because I could really care less about this shit hole. But that is how much I owe the bank that gave me the loan to buy this place. The show is gonna close in two weeks unless I give them the money. There ain't no other way I'm gonna get it." Well that was a good way to stop my plan from continuing. But I shook the thoughts away. When I was in Paris I was capable of anything. I already had a little over one hundred and twenty thousand francs. They easily converted to about twenty-three thousand nine hundred dollars.

"You would really be willing to just give it away to me?" He glared over at me.

"Sure kid. I would love to have this piece of crud off my hands. But a freak like you ain't got that kinda money. You'll lose it in a few weeks anyway." I thrust my hand out towards him.

"I'll take it." He laughed at me.

"What are you gonna do rob a bank or somethin'?"

"All due respect sir, but I did pretty well in France and I am capable of a lot." He scoffed at me, but shook my hand sealing the deal. "Well if you wouldn't mind getting out of my office." I pointed towards the door and the man rose and walked right out slamming the door behind him. I began to tidy the small office hoping that I would find the source of the fried chicken smell so I could dispose of it immediately.

There was a soft knock on the door. I turned the knob and Miss Fleck ran in. "What happened? I have never seen that fat cow leave this room until after midnight. Where is he going? What happened?" I chuckled and looked down at her small form.

"Well it seems that the sideshow belongs to me now."

"Is that the truth? You are not playing with my emotions are you?" I looked down at my small friend, my grin growing with the excitement.

"Of course not. But I am going to need your help with something." Fleck nodded her head and we ran off to find the one person that could solve this problem.


	9. Plans of Dominatoin

"You have officially lost your mind Erik! Not only are you asking for a ridiculous amount of money, but do you know what you'll need to own a place like this? You need an identity! You don't even exit here, Erik!" Madame Giry was livid.

"But if you make an investment in the show, with Erik running it, we can double your money I am sure of it!" The faith that Fleck had in me reassured myself.

"I know you can't invest all of that money but maybe you can convince business men that are around this island. I can do this Giry!"

"They have a good idea, Mother. All we have to do is convince others." Meg stood where she sat on the stairs.

"Silence, Meg!" Meg sat back down. I almost felt bad for her, but this really did not involve her. But then Giry started to think. She turned and looked her daughter over. Then she looked at me. "I know what you did to Christine." Her words shocked me. How could she have known? I thought that I hid it well. I thought that maybe I could leave the memory of that morning behind in Paris. "You inspired her voice. You made her a star. I will do all that I can for you Erik, but you must make Meg your new star. It is about time that my daughter became an empress."

"I mean no offense Miss Giry, but I cannot tech her. Christine was born to be superior. She was bred to perfection. Meg is not Christine. Meg cannot be Christine." I could see Meg wiping tears from her eyes.

"Well you will make her better than Christine and write her music or you can say goodbye to this place."

"I have already tried. It is hard to write without my muse."

"You did not try you locked yourself away in your room on the boat. You are a coward, Erik! You wrote before you ever knew of Christine and you will write after she left you." Her words rubbed at my open wounds like sandpaper.

"How dare you say such things to me! You may say how Christine was like your own daughter, but you never loved her. She was nothing but talent and a dollar sign to you. And now you wish that upon your own child! You are a sick woman!" I turned on my heels and stormed out of her tent. I walked out of the park and down the path to my small oasis.

The dock's wood groaned beneath my weight. I sat on the edge and skimmed my fingers across the surface. How dare it be so calm all the time! So peaceful! How dare it!

"I am sorry about my mother." Meg sat down beside me. She pulled up her long blue skirt exposing her dirty bare feet. She slipped them into the cold water and kicked them around beneath the water's surface. "She doesn't mean what she says."

"Yes she does."

"Well she is a cruel woman to treat you so."

"No she is not. I get back what I give to others."

"Well I don't think you're so bad." She reached out to touch my hand resting on the dock but I pulled it away before she could.

"Why not?" My question seemed to take her by surprise.

"Because you are kind and hard working. You are an amazing musician."

"Thank you, Meg." I knew I made a mistake as soon as her first name left my lips. She leaned in closer to me and touched my mask. I stood up abruptly and started to pace. "Why do you do this, Miss Giry? Why are you always watching me and following me and trying to touch me? Leave me alone!"

"You don't mean that Erik!"

"But I really do, Miss Giry." Tears filled her eyes and she ran off back to her mother's tent. "What is wrong with women?"

"We aren't all bad." I turned to see Fleck standing at the edge of the dock.

"My apologizes, I thought I was alone."

"Gosh, Erik, I you really that unobservant?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Meg likes you."

"She couldn't possibly."

"Why? Because you wear mask to hide your hideous face? People are not as superficial as you think. Not everyone, anyway."

"I do not have time to deal with her."

"It isn't that you don't have time. You are avoiding and ignoring the poor girl. She is fighting for your attention."

"Well she will not receive it, so she should stop trying."

"Because of this Christine girl?" Hearing her name sent a chill through my bones. "Did you really think I didn't know? I am small it is very easy to eavesdrop when you are small."

"You do not understand. What Christine and I had, it was real."

"You are here and she is there, apparently it was only real for one of you."

"You do not understand, Fleck."

"Then try to help me." So I did what I have never done with anyone with Christine, I sat down and shared all of my feelings for Christine. I told her everything that had happened between us. I even told her of the night we had shared only months ago. I even told her of Christine's pregnancy. It took everything in me not to break something or someone.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"That is quite the story."

"Yeah."

"Well there is only one thing we have to do. We need to get the park up and running. We need to lure her here and help her to remember her love for you. And I have an idea but you are going to have to a little nicer to Meg to get her on our side."

"What is this plan you have us your sleeve Miss Fleck?"

"Let's call it Operation Love Never Dies."

"Love Never Dies?"

"Yeah, because from what I can tell your love for one another is never going to die let alone alter. She doesn't seem like the kind of woman to just settle for second best."

"She shouldn't be."

"Then let's remind her who is best."


End file.
